A Late Night
by Ice Dagger
Summary: Raphael escapes the lair for another late night romp. When we comes back, he finds Donatello waiting for a little heart to heart chat. Don Raph centric. Disclaimed


Raphael stumbled into the lair, his eyelids drooped and his muscles heavy with exhaustion. Another tense day fighting with his older brother, which meant another day of needing a large turtle-shaped punching bag. The guilt following that meant another late night bashing heads with Casey Jones. Of course, as always, the boisterous pair lost track of time until Casey started staggering and his words began to slur – sure signs that he was either drunk or tired. And since they hadn't been drinking yet, the answer was pretty clear. Raphael sent his friend back to his little cubby of an apartment before slipping under a nearby manhole and into the dark tunnels that eventually lead him back to the lair.

The room was dark, as was the rest of the sewers he had managed to stagger through without too much trouble, but now he had to add furniture to the mixture of obstacles. That was not fun any night the "lone wolf" came wandering in at an ungodly hour, and even less fun tonight since they had moved furniture the other day – Sensei had decided that they needed to properly Feng Shuei the lair. Probably in hopes of cooling the red ninja's temper by bringing in "good chi" or something like that. Raphael's eyes closed for a few seconds before he shook himself awake. He smacked his face in an attempt to stay awake; he could at least attempt to get across the room with minimal damage to the junkyard treasures they called their furniture. The second oldest's vision was fuzzy from lack of sleep, making his progress aggravatingly slow as he shuffled his feet and held out his hands in hopes that he'd find any of the chipped and dented furnishings before he flipped over them and broke himself or broke them. That didn't work too well, he found out when one of his toes hit a table, or maybe the leg of the sofa – either way it was painful. After a crash of a vase, possibly a lamp, Raphael decided it was an end table he had so gracefully kicked. At the moment it didn't matter all that much, seeing as his toe felt like it was on fire. He gritted his teeth, letting out a few muted curses as he reached down to grab the offended toe.

"What the shell?" A sleepy voice came from farther in the room, causing Raphael to pause his hopping. "Raph? That you bro?"

The red ninja reluctantly released the pained appendage and tried to peer through the darkness. A dark shadow of a head was peeking over the overstuffed back of a trashed sofa. "Don?"

The figure shifted, disappearing back behind the sofa. "So, you're finally back. I was wondering when you'd be in." A yawn dotted the end of the sentence.

A light clicked on, temporarily blinding the older brother. "What're you still doing up?" He croaked, putting a hand over his face to block out the dim lamp.

"Mikey wanted to see you."

Raphael's heart sank into his stomach, and his stomach sank down into the soles of his feet. "Really?"

Don nodded and moved to see over the cotton that was pushing out between the seams of the fabric. "He asked to see you when you got in." The younger brother glanced at the clock on the wall. "Of course that was four hours ago; Mikey's probably sleeping now." Donatello looked back at Raphael. "He's fine, you know. He'll probably be up and moving sometime tomo – well, today I guess."

Raphael blinked and looked at the clock. "It's five-thirty already? Doesn't feel a minute past two." He joked half-heartedly.

Donatello didn't laugh. Not that the older ninja really expected him to; Michelangelo had always been the joker out of the four. "He woke up right after you left." The purple ninja said quietly. "He really wanted to talk to you, too. Didn't even want to go to sleep before you came back." He paused and let out a light laugh. "Just about talked Master Splinter's ears off trying to stay up. He even tried to convince Leo to bring him some comic books so he could keep himself awake."

Raphael chuckled despite himself. "Good luck with that. Leo wouldn't go against doctor's orders for a chance to go topside in broad daylight."

Don managed a small smile before another yawn interrupted it. "I don't know how you stay up so late, Raph. I took a three hour nap and I'm still exhausted."

The older turtle shrugged and walked around the corner, carefully avoiding the table this time, and sunk down onto the sofa next to his brother. "It's the only time I can really let off some steam. Other than when we spar." He froze as soon as the word spar passed his thin lips. His eyes flicked over to the infirmary door before looking away guiltily. "I really screwed him up this time, didn't I Don?"

The purple-banded ninja shook his head. "It's mostly superficial. You did break his wrist, but everything else was just bumps and bruises. Nothing life threatening." He stopped for a second, probably carefully picking his words. "You really shook him up, but like I said, he's fine."

"I almost didn't want to stop." Raphael muttered, running a three-fingered hand over his bald scalp. "I just saw red, and I couldn't tell what I was doing." Michelangelo would have made some wise crack about Raphael's bandana falling over his eyes. Donatello just stayed quiet. "All I knew was that I was my fist was connecting with something. It wasn't until you yelled and I felt his wrist snapping that I-" He didn't want to finish that sentence. He'd already let his guard down, already said too much. But it was surprisingly hard to keep that barrier up around Donatello. Sure, Michelangelo always managed to find a hole in the wall and invited himself over for a pizza party whenever he deemed it necessary, but the purple ninja somehow silently convinced Raphael to let him in. Maybe it was the way he didn't say anything until he absolutely needed to. He kept his mouth shut and let the older turtle talk until he was out of words.

"You just need to learn how to control it." Donatello didn't need to elaborate, Raphael knew what "it" he was talking about. That stupid temper of his always seemed to get him into trouble, seemed to get his youngest brother into a lot of tight situations too.

"I lost it, and I couldn't stop myself. What if you hadn't been around? I could've done a lot worse." He admitted softly, shaking his head. What kind of a ninja was Raphael if he couldn't even control his emotions?

Donatello put a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder. "But you didn't."

"That's not the point, Don." Raphael would have yelled if his throat weren't so dry. "I could have really hurt him."

"You stopped." The purple turtle gently reminded him.

"Because you made me." He murmured.

Raphael felt his shoulder being pulled and turned, looking his younger brother in the eye. "I didn't make you do anything, Raph." He said softly. "All I said was your name. You stopped yourself." A light smile lifted his lips again. "You stopped yourself, bro."

The red ninja blinked slowly, letting those words sink in. He had never heard anyone say that to him before. Probably because no one truly believed he could stop himself if things got too out of hand. He didn't fully believe it himself. But somehow, when Donatello said that, it seemed possible. Like if he just worked a little harder he could learn how to pen up that anger and keep it from hurting his brothers, from hurting himself. He couldn't help but let a smile creep across his face. "Thanks, bro."

A shuffling sound came from the open infirmary door, accompanied by a tired yawn and a groan. Donatello glanced over his shoulder, still smiling. "Sounds like Mikey just woke up. Probably needs another aspirin." He pushed himself off the sofa and offered his older brother a hand up, looking down at him expectantly.

Raphael stared at the hand, then at the open door, and back up at the hand. He didn't want to see what he'd done to Michelangelo, didn't want to risk doing it again if his youngest brother made a wise crack about his temper. But when he looked up at Donatello's face, he couldn't help but believe that he should go see the orange ninja. Swatting the hand away, he hefted himself up off the sofa. "Lead the way, bro."

Donatello didn't say anything, just nodded and turned to walk into the infirmary. He heard him talking to Michelangelo and ran a hand over his head again. "It's fine, Donnie. I'll just use one 'chuck instead of two during training. Hey, is Raph home yet?"

Raphael sighed and started towards the infirmary, silently cursing. He'd almost forgotten they had katas in two hours. Another late night of bashing heads meant another morning that came way too early. He crossed through the threshold to the medical room and smirked at his youngest brother, who was quickly swallowing a small painkiller. "Hey bro. Sorry I'm late."

Of course, maybe this time it wouldn't be so bad.


End file.
